


Sparkle

by EndlessRain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, Support Group, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndlessRain/pseuds/EndlessRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Cas waited until all of the other members filed out, awkwardly shuffling papers from his podium, not daring to look at Dean. In turn, Dean paced the gym slowly, taking his sweet time looking at all of the posters on a large bulletin board in the back. Oh look, the high school was doing <i>Fiddler</i>."</p><p>Or, the one where Dean meets Cas at a support group.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparkle

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the destiel ficlet challenge on tumblr! My prompt was: "person A meets person B at support group."

“Dean, go. For me?”

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. “‘S not gonna help.” He threw his feet up on Sam’s coffee table, something he knew that Sam hated. He wasn’t doing it specifically because Sam hated it when he got his muddy work boots all over the coffee table that was probably more expensive than all of the furniture in Dean’s house put together, but it was definitely a perk. 

Sam frowned, partially at the boots and partially at his brother’s stubbornness. “Dean, it really does. I went for a long time after Jess died. I even went back a few times after Dad passed away, too.”

“Did it make ‘em any less dead?” Dean asked.

Sam scowled and pushed himself off the couch. “You’re being an asshole, Dean. I’m just trying to help.” He collected their plates and wandered into the kitchen, muttering to himself. 

Honestly, Dean didn’t even see a point in going to some group cry session over his dead uncle. Sure, Bobby was probably the closest thing they ever had to a real parent, mostly because John spent the time’s that he was sober on the road, but still. Hanging out with other people who also had dead family members wouldn’t make Dean feel any better, it’d just depress him even more. 

“Besides, I’m making a delivery to SoHo in a month, and then after that I’ll be on the road for a couple of months. I can just mourn Bobby in private, dude.”

Sam came back into the living room holding a pair of beers. “Yeah, but you can also mourn him with others, who know what you’re going through, y’know?”

“What can’t you just go with me?” Dean pouted, knowing exactly why. 

“I told you, I have a meeting with a client, otherwise I’d go.” Sam looked at him big and open, the way he does when he’s concerned. “Dean, I’m really worried about you. You’re not sleeping, you’re barely eating. This is killing you, man. Talk to someone, please.”

Dean peeked at Sam out of the corner of his eye. The big lug’s eyebrows were drawn together, puppy eyes at full speed. 

Dean sighed. “Alright, I’ll go. But only once, got it? Just to get you off my case.”

That, was the story of how Sam Winchester convinced his brother to take care of himself for once.

This, is the story of how Dean Winchester met the love of his life.  
***

Of course, Dean comes into group late, a black coffee in his hand and sunglasses hiding his face. Rows and rows of chairs faced a podium in the middle of a high school gym, and were currently filled with people who were bowing their heads….ugh, praying. 

He almost turned around and booked it because uh, hell no, but the man standing at the podium leading the prayer titled his head up, caught Dean’s eye, and gestured for him to sit down. He was leading the prayer, thanking God for their health and their loved ones… to be honest Dean wasn’t really listening. 

Instead, he was paying attention to the man, who held a finger to his lips and gestured again for Dean to sit. Obediently, Dean sat in the nearest chair. The man grinned at him, eyes sparkling as if he knew a secret. 

“Please give us the strength to recognize when we cannot control things…”

He stared at Dean as he prayed, raising his eyebrows. He held his clasped hands up to Dean, emphasizing the fact that oh yeah, they were praying. Dean quickly bowed his head, and listened to the man’s prayer drone on. His voice was deep and gravelly, and a little bit soothing. 

Dean kinda spaced out of a minute, listening to the man’s voice go up and down as he asked God to bless their family members, cats, whatever. 

“Since we have a couple of newbies in here, I’ll introduce myself,” the man was saying. Dean’s head jerked up. Clearly the prayer had ended, because everyone was sitting up again, listening to the man at the podium. He glanced at Dean. “My name is Castiel, and I’ve been running Lost Loved Ones for oh, four years now?” He spoke as if he was talking directly to Dean, rather than the three dozen people that were all sitting before him. 

“Anyway, I actually started out as just a regular member of Lost Loved Ones when my wife Meg was taken from me several years ago. LLO really helped me through a tough, tough time. It still does, actually. But now I’m here to help people with what I went through.” Cas smiled at the group, and glanced at Dean. “Would anyone like to go first?”

His eyes bore into Dean. 

Dean smirked. Okay, so it was like that. He crossed his arms, kicked his feet up onto the chair in front of him, and made himself comfortable. He was fine where he was, actually. 

Someone eventually volunteered to speak, and they made their way to the podium. Castiel stood with a teary eyed woman as she introduced herself. Once she launched into a story, Castiel patted her on the back, and then made his way back to Dean.  
He plopped down next to Dean and settled into the folding chair. He listened to the woman for a few minutes before leaning into Dean. 

“You know, I can always tell when someone doesn’t want to be here,” he whispered. Dean glanced at the man, whose eyes were focused on the woman speaking. 

“What gave it away?” Dean whispered back. 

“Well, practically falling asleep during the prayer is a big clue.”

Dean ducked his head. “Sorry ‘bout that. Me an’ God, were not exactly uh, best friends. I don’t I’ve actually prayed since preschool.” 

It also didn’t help that Castiel had the most relaxing and soothing voice Dean had ever heard. 

Castiel shook his head and chuckled. “That’s quite alright, half the people here aren’t religious. However, I think the message still helps, so I pray at the beginning, anyway.”

Dean tried to recall a single thing that Castiel had prayed about, but all he could remember was his voice. Oh well. Maybe everyone else in the room just comes to hear this guy’s hot voice. 

Whoa, hot? Slow down there, Dean. 

Without removing his gaze on the woman speaking, Castiel stuck his hand towards Dean and said, “Castiel Novak.”

“Dean Winchester,” he replied, taking his limp hand. They were sitting side by side, and both refusing to look at each other, so it was more of an awkward hand hold than a shake. That’s what Castiel was going for, right? A hand shake? 

Apparently no one ever taught Cas how to shake hands, because he kind of just awkwardly held Dean’s hand for a few moments. Dean turned to the guy to you know, ask for his fucking hand back, but the dude was already staring back at him, smiling fondly. 

“You should go,” he said. 

“What?” What the fuck, now he’s offended him?

“Up there,” Cas said, gesturing towards the front. “I can tell that you’re having a hard time. You should speak about what’s troubling you.”

Dean glanced up at the front, where the woman was now weeping.

“Marsha lost her son about a year ago. She goes every single session, and almost always cries. She’s a single mother with four other children, so I think this is the one place where she doesn’t have to be strong for everyone else. I don’t think she lets herself cry in front of her kids.” Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand and then let go. 

Dean had forgotten that Cas had had a hold on it. 

He looked back up at the woman crying. Her tears were starting to slow down now, and she was dabbing at her cheeks with a tissue.

It had been over a month since Bobby died. Through finding out, making the calls, planning the funeral, and going through all of his stuff, Dean had yet to cry. Sam had cried. Jo and Ellen had cried. Hell, Jody barely stopped crying. But not Dean. Not yet. 

He didn’t want to start here. 

“Not this time, dude,” Dean said. 

“Sometimes, I forget that he’s gone,” Marsha was saying when Dean finally tore his gaze away fro Cas. “It’s not that I forget that he’s died, it’s more like there’s moments throughout the day where I’m not focused on Steven, and then suddenly I remember and it’s like everything crashes around me. Then, I feel guilty for not being sad for that one moment. I know that it’s okay to be happy sometimes, but I never feel like I can let myself.”

Huh. Dean could sorta relate to that. 

At the end of the session, Castiel encouraged everyone to hug their neighbors, before pulling Dean into a bone crushing hug. 

“I hope you will return,” he whispered. 

*** 

Oddly enough, Dean did. 

He gave Sam some random excuse about going back, something about the free food or whatever. He couldn’t tell him that it was actually working, because he wasn’t sure if it was or not, but he did know that he had to go back and see Cas, and he definitely wasn’t telling Sam about that. 

He had zero plans of speaking in front of all these people, and he doubted that he’d even pay attention, really, but there he was, standing awkwardly next to the table littered with fruit trays and muffins. Hell, he was even early. 

“Dean!” 

He looked over his shoulder, and yep. There was Castiel, beaming at him. 

“Hey, Cas.”

“You came back!” Castiel said proudly. 

Dean shrugged. Did Cas really think that he wasn’t going to show up again? Well, he sure showed him. 

“I’m not sure if I want to talk, though,” Dean admitted. 

Cas gave him a reassuring smile. “Doesn’t bother me. Sometimes it just helps to listen.”

Then, Castiel turned to the group, clapped his hands and directed everyone to their seats. Dean found his way to the back again, despite the available seats in the front row. Cas introduced himself and the group, and then launched into another lengthy prayer. 

Instead of bowing his head like the rest of the group, Dean leaned back into his chair and watched Castiel. Castiel in turn, watched Dean. 

He repeated his same story that he had last week and then asked for volunteers to share their own. Then, he made his way to the back of the room to sit next to Dean. He didn’t speak to Dean or even really acknowledge his presence, other than the light touch of his knee against Dean’s. It was a light tap at first, then suddenly he was leaning up against Dean comfortably, like he was supposed to be there. Dean smiled to himself. 

“What?” Castiel whispered.

“Nothing, dude. Pay attention!” Dean hissed back jokingly. 

Cas raised his eyebrows. “My apologies.”

At the end of the session, Castiel stood back up and addressed the group. “That was a very good point that Charlie made. Just because they’re gone, doesn’t mean that the effect that they had on the world is, too. All those precious memories and good times you had with this person, they’re still alive.”

Yeah, but Bobby isn’t. 

“This week, I’m giving you a little bit of homework.”

Dean snorted. He wasn’t aware that he was back in school. 

Castiel must’ve heard him, because he glanced over at Dean amusedly. “Don’t worry, this won’t involve much work. This week, I want you to reach out to someone who was also affected by the death and just talk to them. It doesn’t have to be a serious conversation. Maybe just hang out. Go out to dinner or something. Talk about your fond memories. Just… try.”

***

“You want to _what?_ ” 

“You know, just talk. About Bobby. The uh, good times, y’know. Heh, remember that baseball game he took us to?” 

Sam frowned. “Dude, are you feeling okay? Since when do you want to just talk?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. The guy at support group said it’d help.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “You’ve been going to support group? Like, more than just the one time I made you go?”

“Shut up.”

“No, really? I thought you said it wouldn’t make a difference. That talking about the dead wouldn’t make them less dead. Are you telling me that I was right?” Okay, now Sam was just straight gloating. Whatever, dude. 

“God, nevermind. If you’re gonna be a dick about it, just forget it.”

Sam’s mocking smile disappeared. “Oh. You’re serious.”

“Well, yeah. This is Bobby, for god’s sake. Why would I joke about that?” Dean huffed. Jesus, here he was trying to bare his soul to his brother and he’s getting laughed at. 

Oh god, now Sam was looking at him with those puppy dog eyes, again. 

“Dean, this is really great. Of course we can talk about Bobby. I just figured I’d have to drag it out of you.”

“Well, you don’t. I’m here, let’s talk about it.” 

There was an awkward pause. A month and half of absolutely not talking about it, and suddenly he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. 

“‘Course, Bobby never wanted to talk about anything,” Dean chuckled. “Remember when you made him that shitty card on Father’s Day, and he cried? He tried to cover it up, act like he suddenly had allergies for the first time in his life.”

“Hey, it wasn’t shitty!”

“Uh, you used glitter glue, dude. I think that qualifies it as shitty.”

Sam grinned. 

***

“Alright, great session everyone. I truly mean it. I hope to see you all here again next time,” Castiel waved at the group in dismissal, and Dean stood to go. 

“Dean, hang back for a moment, okay?”

Dean froze. This was the fourth meeting he’d gone to, and Castiel had yet to ask him to stay behind afterwards. Shit, he still hadn’t managed to talk about Bobby in front of everybody. Maybe he was in trouble for not participating. Were there rules against that, like in fight club? Was he gonna get kicked out for being a weird little lurker in their somehow helpful group?

Cas waited until all of the other members filed out, awkwardly shuffling papers from his podium, not daring to look at Dean. In turn, Dean paced the gym slowly, taking his sweet time looking at all of the posters on a large bulletin board in the back. Oh look, the high school was doing _Fiddler_.

After the last person thanked Castiel and left, Dean turned towards his friend and quirked an eyebrow. Well, here it was. He was about to get kicked out of the one thing in his life that wasn’t shitty. “So…?”

“I was wondering if you would interested in having lunch with me,” Castiel blurted. 

Oh. 

That was. 

Huh. 

“Like, right now?”  
Cas’s eyes widened, horrified. “Forget I said anything. You’re busy. I get it. It was… it was inappropriate of me. This is not a social group and I-”

Dean waved away his babbling. “No, lunch sounds great. I just wanna know if you mean now or not, because I’m leaving tomorrow morning for a delivery that’s gonna keep me on the road for a couple of weeks, an’ I’d rather do it before I go, y’know?”

Castiel grinned. 

***

“This place has the best pizza, I swear,” Dean chewed around a mouthful of food. Cas hummed in agreement, too busy chowing down to say any more. 

Hey, the guy liked food just about as much as Dean did, which was a lot. Dean could appreciate that. 

“Dude, you got a little uh-” Dean gestured at his own face in demonstration. 

Cas wiped at his face with the back of his hand, only to spread the pizza sauce further. 

Dean laughed. “Hold on,” he said, picking up his napkin. “I gotcha.” He gently wiped the sauce of Cas’s face, taking care to dramatically dab at the man’s face. Castiel rolled his eyes in protest, making Dean laugh even harder at the scenario. 

“You are a grown ass man, how did you even get this much sauce on your face?”

Cas shrugged. “That’s what I have you for, apparently.”

An elderly couple at the table next to them watched, and laughed along with them. “Careful, let him do that and he’ll be doing it for the next fifty years,” the man warned. “Rose over here does the same thing to me.”

The woman, Rose apparently, rolled her eyes and swatted at him. “I only do it because you’re incapable,” she teased. She looked over at Dean and winked. 

Dean’s face burned at the insinuation that they were a couple, and one that was going to last a long time, at that. He and Cas were just friends, how could that couple see them as some old married couple just like them. 

But Castiel noticed, but when Dean looked at him to confirm that they needed to correct the couple, he only shrugged, his eyes shining with amusement. Let them think it, they said. 

Walking back to Dean’s car, Castiel suddenly grew quiet. 

“What’s up, dude?”

“You’re leaving,” he said. 

Dean nudged Cas with his elbow. “Yeah, for a couple of routine deliveries. I’ll be back in a few weeks. I’m always traveling, you know that.”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, but I’ll miss you.”

Dean’s stomach lurched. He still wasn’t quite used to the way Cas said everything with such open honesty, his heart so far out on his sleeve that it could almost fall off. It was too much sometimes. 

“I’ll miss you too, buddy,” Dean said, leaning against the Impala. His fingers twitched and he suddenly felt the urge to reach out and touch him. He shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“Perhaps I could… give you my phone number,” Castiel suggested. “Just in case you need to talk about Bobby,” he added hastily. 

He had only told Castiel about Bobby once, quietly before a session. 

Dean smirked. “Right. In case I need to talk about Bobby.”

***

One thing was for sure: Cas sent the weirdest text messages. Dean certainly wasn’t one to text and drive, but he may or may not had gotten into the habit of pulling out his phone first thing at every rest stop and delivery site to read the strange shit he was getting from Cas:

 _Cas Novak: My cat was just diagnosed with diabetes._

_Cas Novak: Did I mention that I’m a beekeeper? When you get back, you should visit my home and see my bees._

_Cas Novak: That is… if you wanted to._

_Cas Novak: I know some people don’t like bees._

_Cas Novak: Do you like cheeseburgers?_

_Cas Novak: What is your opinion of Starbucks? I want to hate it because of it’s consumerist monopoly it has over coffee, but I can’t because I really love their passion iced teas._

Those text messages made Dean laugh out loud, and he’d quickly respond to them with whatever answer he deemed appropriate to...that. He found himself rereading them before falling asleep. 

Cas also sent a few heartbreaking texts, that made Dean’s stomach drop:

_Cas Novak: I accidentally found a box of Meg’s things. I think you forget how much you love someone until you are reminded of them._

_Cas Novak: I miss whispering to you during LLO._

Then, there were the text messages that made Dean feel other confusing things: 

_Cas Novak: I’m not supposed to talk about things that happen in group outside of group, but today, three different people asked me where my ‘man’ was. I wonder what that meant._

_Cas Novak: I suppose I’m technically a better leader when you’re not there to distract me._

_Cas Novak: I don’t even talk to anyone else outside of group, apart from maybe a few on Facebook. I'm not sure why you're so important to me, but you are._

***

Soon, Dean returned from his string of deliveries long enough to be able to start going back to group. He sent Cas a quick text to let him know he’d be there, to which he replied:

Cas Novak: Excellent. I’ll actually put effort into the brownies, this time. 

Dean couldn’t help but grin down at his phone. Jesus, that guy was weird. 

He could feel his brother staring at him from across the room. 

“What, Sammy?”

Sam shrugged. “I dunno, Dean. You tell me.” Sam gave him this knowing look, like they were supposed to all know what Sam was talking about. Ugh, whatever. 

Conveniently, Dean decided to change the subject. “Anyway, don’t wait up for me tomorrow, I’m going to group again.”

“You’re still going to that?”

“‘Course. It’s kinda cool, I guess. I’m even making friends,” Dean said proudly. Well, friend. Whatever. 

Sam insisted on going to the support group with Dean, after that. 

“Because it’s like, my thing! You can’t go!”

“Are you forgetting that I went first? I’m the one who told you about it, dude. I’m going, and that’s that.”

It wasn’t that Dean didn’t want Sam to like, mourn properly or anything. Or even that Dean was getting something deep and profound out of the group, although it did help to hear other people going through similar shit that he was. Not that he’d tell Sam that. Or Cas. 

No, there was a different reason that Dean didn’t want Sam to come. 

They made it in time for the awkward socializing that always happens before Castiel starts each session and Dean headed straight for the food, just like last time. 

Castiel spotted Dean next to the table and made a beeline towards him. 

“Dean! I’m glad you’re back!” He scooped Dean up into a hug. He’d never admit it, but it felt good. God, how long had it been since Dean had been hugged, by anyone? He soaked up the hug, squeezing into Cas.

Sam coughed awkwardly, and Castiel released Dean, glancing at Sam. 

“Hi, uh, I’m Sam. Dean’s brother. I actually used to come here a few years back.”

Cas shook his hand. “Welcome. My name is Castiel, I run Lost Loved Ones.”

He looked over at Dean and paused, like he wanted to say more. He didn’t get the chance, because an older woman caught his attention and waved him over. With one last mournful look at Dean, he headed over the the woman. 

Sam Winchester, Little Shit Extraordinaire, looked like he just won the fucking lottery. 

The session started with Cas’s usual schpeel, and then all of the regulars cycled through their stories. Thanks to the giant Dean brought along with him, Cas decided to sit up in the front, occasionally peeking back to share a smile with Dean. This was the worst session ever. 

 

When there was a lull in speakers, as there usually is towards the end, Cas turned towards the group and asked, “Anyone else? Don’t be shy, we’ve all felt what you have, and just talking about it is often very therapeutic.”

Before he could stop himself, his legs were up and moving himself towards the front. 

“Dean, this is a surprise. Go ahead,” Cas said, beaming up at him. There was this twinkle in his eye that Dean couldn’t quite identify, but it made him feel brave.

“Alright… my name is Dean Winchester. Uh, and I’m an Aquarius,” he joked. A few people chuckled. “Anyways…” he took a deep breath. “A few months back, my Uncle Bobby died. Now, he wasn’t my real uncle, and he might as well had been my father…”

***

After the session ended, Dean hung back a bit to confirm with Cas that they were still going to the burger place afterwards. He was busy speaking to family, so Dean stood awkwardly with Sam.

Oh god, he’d probably have to bring Sam now. 

“So… you and Castiel,” Sam said suddenly.

Dean cringed. “What?”

“So that’s why you keep coming back here. And that’s why you didn’t want me to come! Not because it’s special or ‘your thing’ or something, you just didn’t want me to meet your little boyfriend!” God, Sam was going to get it. 

“Shut up, dude!” Dean hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had heard him. He already knew that people were talking about them, but Jesus. His face was burning. God, if only he would’ve tried harder in convincing Sam not to come. 

“Why haven’t I met him yet, if it’s that serious?” Sam asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Is it because you met him through therapy?”

Goddammit. Dean pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “He’s not… we’re not.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Awkward.”

Suddenly, Sam was shoving him. “Well why not?”

 

“Ow! Sammy!”

“You’re an idiot!” Sam snorted. “Seriously. You guys clearly like each other.”

“So?”

“So?” Sam looked horrified. “So do something about it! Come on! Dude, think about how pissed off Bobby would be if he knew that you were stopping yourself from being with someone who made you happy.”

Well, fuck. Dean basically couldn’t do shit if Sam was going to use the Bobby card. 

So, Dean Winchester bucked up every inch of courage he had, and a little bit of Sam’s, and found himself standing behind Cas, waiting awkwardly for him to finish speaking with the family. 

“Let me know how that goes, okay?” Cas was saying, as the family left. “Goodbye!” He turned around and positively beamed when he saw Dean. 

“Hello, Dean.”

Shit. Okay. He could do this. 

“Uh, hey Cas. I was wondering, about those burgers?”

“Yes?” 

“We could uh, we could make that like a date, if you wanted.”

Castiel chuckled. “ _Like_ a date?”

“Or y’know… an actual date.”

That same sparkle was back in Cas’s eyes. The same amused look he had when Dean walked in to Lost Loved Ones late that first time. The same sparkle he had when Dean said yes to pizza. The same sparkle he had when that old couple assumed they were together. It was a look in his eye that made Dean nervous, because there was a word tied to that name, a word Dean couldn’t even think about yet, but the pit of his stomach knew it was already there. 

“We could do an actual date, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> My femslash minibang, Mint Condition Limited Edition will be posted in September!


End file.
